Friday, July 8, 2016

There's Still Dancing

Some terrible things are happening. Horrific bombings in Iraq. Fanatic shootings at home. Families and lives torn apart because of hate, and misunderstanding, and anger, and fear, and and and . . .

And we feel heartbroken for it. And passion. And a compelling urge to say and do something about it. Because we despise tragedy. And we don't want lives to be torn apart because of hate, and misunderstanding, and anger, and fear. Nobody should have to experience the unfathomable grief that so many are experiencing. And especially not because of where they live, or what they look like, or what they believe, or who they are.
But they do. They do experience that unfathomable grief. And because they do, they, and the rest of us who are lucky enough only to witness that grief from the sidelines are tempted to let hopelessness consume us.

Hopelessness.

The feeling that good has been taken away and that it won't return. That there isn't a reason to be happy. That there isn't a reason to feel peace. And love. And understanding. And safety.

If you're tempted to feel that hopelessness, please try to remember that there still is good. And there still will be good.

There are still heroes in this world whose compassion is more powerful than any weapon we've created.

There are still many sunny days ahead.

There are still puppies.

There will still be pumpkin carving in the fall, sledding in the winter, and planting flowers in the spring.

There will still be happy tears when good people get married and sweet children overcome adversity.

There will still be parades celebrating inspiring achievements, and barbecues celebrating neighborhood camaraderie.

There will still be noble acts of service that change lives, and lives that inspire noble acts of service.

There's still beauty.

There's still love.

There's still dancing.

Please, when you start to feel hopeless, remember that all of these things still exist. Remember them not because you shouldn't feel heartbreak and passion over the tragedy that is tempting you to believe they don't exist. Remember them so you don't forget why that heartbreak and passion matters.

I love you all.

(If you are struggling with anxiety and need help, please check out the resources at Better Help.)

We love you! Love all the strangers, the ones who are family, the ones who are family but don't know it yet, the ones who lurk on the sidelines resisting becoming fully part of the family... Love, love, love. Thanks, Eli, for your words, for this community you have created, for giving us so much of yourself.

So so what I need to read. I think "There's still dancing" should be a new catchphrase we use when we are feeling down about some really hard thing. It's a message of hope that we all need whenever we experience something sad and unfair. Yes it feels like it may be hard to be happy ever again, but "there's still dancing," and we shouldn't forget that.

I live near Dallas and was up until 2am last night watching in horror as one by one they announced each police hero passing away. I sat on my couch listening to the coverage strangely detached from the horror of what happened. I honestly thought that after Orlando and now in my own backyard I must finally be numb to all of this because all I felt was a kind of "intellectual" sadness. Where you are sad because you are supposed to be, not because of any emotion behind it. I'm not describing it very well, I know.

I just finished this post and I am literally crying. The tears are not stopping. I want to thank you for writing something so moving that was able to reach me underneath all this cynicism and indifference that has been building up like a callous. Thank you for saying the words that I didn't know I needed to hear.

So eloquently put Eli and something I desperately needing reminding of. Thank you for your remainder that there is still good in the world when we are being flood by all the horribleness right now. Love to you.